


His Banner Over Me

by blueswan



Category: Smallville RPF
Genre: AU, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueswan/pseuds/blueswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's what Tom did - does - gives Mike what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Banner Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by ely_jan, menomegirl, and gloss. Without each of them, their insights and suggestions, this story would not be what it is. With that kind of help, I think it is obvious that any remaining mistakes are clearly mine.
> 
> Originally posted July 2007.

Mike was happy, content even. Life was good, and things didn't seem to be changing anytime soon. He didn't think about it much - except when he did - about the fact that he was so fucking lucky. Though, in certain moments, like when he looked up from Tom's lap when they watched TV together, he knew. Those moments he acknowledged when he tightened his hand over Tom's knee, rubbed his check on his thigh and willed Tom to read his mind. Those moments when Tom would draw circles with his thumb over Mike's ear, and say so damned easily, "Love you too, watch the game now."

They knew each other, Mike had no doubt. He knew all their secrets long since been shared. Mike's love of hockey and his childhood dream of playing for the Rangers no secret. Now, Mike played in a non-contact league. Tom's once upon a time dream of acting tossed aside. Tom did lighting for a local community theatre group and sometimes took on a small role. No regrets for lost dreams, they had forged ahead and made their lives work.

Work was great, the sex better than, and life was just about perfect. So, of course, Mike screwed it up. He used to tease Tom about his wandering eye, when dark-haired guys with Slavic cheekbones were in his vicinity. Mike didn't have a type, he claimed. He could appreciate a good-looking guy, but he didn't really see them. Tom was his type. It never occurred to Mike to doubt his feelings for Tom. Not for a second did he ever think he might be tempted or need the "out" he'd jokingly offered Tom.

Mike was stupid.

When the kid at work started with the lunches together, the rides to and from work, Mike didn't think much of it. Laughed at home with Tom about the kid with the crush, thought the idea that someone was crushing on him was ridiculous. Tom just rubbed his thumb over Mike's eyebrow and said, "Don't break his heart." Mike laughed some more. He was so fucking stupid.

One morning at work, the kid shouted, "Heads up", and Mike snatched at a juice-box before it hit him, fumbled the catch, and bent down to pick it up. He heard the kid snorting, called him a dumb fuck as he looked across the desk. Saw a face flushed with laughter, blond hair hanging just that bit too long, across his checks and froze. For a second, just a flash that lasted too long, he saw the kid naked, laughing, pushing long hair back in a gesture he hadn't seen in 6 years at least.

Time stopped. It sped ahead; it started and ended in rapid fire jerks that Mike couldn't process. He couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He had to get away. Faintly he could hear the kid calling his name, trying to get his attention. The kid followed him into the men's room, put his hand on Mike’s shoulder and got in his face.

Mike kissed him. And the rest he didn't remember, didn't want to remember, tried very hard to forget. But the kid didn't. The rest of the day Mike saw him watching, his eyes full of what they had done. At the end of the day, the kid met him same as always, drove him home. When the car stopped, Mike knew something had to be said, he didn't know what, so he said nothing.

 

There was no changing what had happened and Mike knew himself well enough to know he couldn't hold this back. He couldn't leave the thing alone. It kept popping into his mind, left him shaking. He had to sit down and force himself to think of something else, anything else.

Tom walked into the apartment and every light in the place was on, the TV was blaring and the stereo too. Mike came up the hallway shoving the vacuum. His eyes kept slipping away from Tom's.

"What's wrong?"

No answer to that because Mike still didn't have a clue what to say. He kept running the vacuum, steering around Tom and Tom followed him. It didn't take long to finish and when Mike shut it off, the silence in the place was too much. All he could hear was Tom's question, and under it the muffled gasps and moans he and the kid had created together.

This was a fucking disaster and Mike had made it. He had to talk to someone but god, he did not want that someone to be Tom. It was pure cowardice on Mike's part, he knew that. He just couldn't bear to see how badly he was going to hurt Tom. Underlying that was the profound fear that it wouldn't hurt that much, that maybe Tom wouldn't care that much.

Which Mike knew was shit. He fucking knew how much Tom cared. Maybe he was afraid Tom wouldn't believe the depth of regret he felt. He wouldn't know until he told Tom.

So, he did; Mike sat down and told Tom. Looked over a few times, but couldn't do the eye contact thing. Confessed and didn't feel one damned bit better for it. Just closed his eyes, and waited for a reaction. He didn't get one.

When Tom left to take a walk, Mike curled into the couch corner and channel surfed for a bit. That restless energy resurfaced and he went back to cleaning the apartment. He was washing dishes when Tom returned.

Tom forgave him. It's what Tom did - does - gives Mike what he needs. He didn't punish him; touched him, talked to him, held him, kissed him, even fucking cried with Mike. Managed to get Mike to eat something, and go to bed. Lay beside him, breathed with him until Mike fell asleep.

They got up in the morning, showered, kissed goodbye and went to work. They were so polite and careful with each other Mike couldn't breathe. Every time one of them said please or thank you or you're welcome, Mike felt a sliver of TomandMike break away and disappear. Every time they looked at each other and one of them flinched, he felt it.

If he could only make it not have happened. But it had and he couldn't. Tom promised him it would be okay, said they needed to hang in there. What they had, what they had been was being changed, had changed, could never be the same, but their love existed. It was real and twenty minutes of brain-death couldn't end it. Mike believed in Tom and Tom's ability to think things through. So he waited. Stayed and loved Tom and hoped Tom could still read his mind.

Nothing had changed, but everything was different. They didn't fuck. For so long, Mike began to wonder if they ever would again.

Every night was the same. They went to bed, and lay silently, Tom's hand curved over Mike's hip. In the morning Tom might be at the furthest edge of the bed - miles of linen between them, mountains Mike couldn't begin to climb. And some mornings, they would wake up tangled in each other's arms, and Mike would awaken hard and humping lazily against Tom. Tom would untangle himself, kiss Mike and call dibs on the shower. Mike would just lie in the bed, his fists clenched, listening to the patter of water on tile and concentrate on breathing.

Their lives moved on. It was hard, but easier than Mike had guessed it would be. He thought it should be harder, this getting on with it stuff.

The kid at work took a transfer and there were some pointed looks when it happened, but he and Mike shook hands goodbye when he left. The looks never amounted to more than speculative gossip that ended when the next co-worker had a personal drama.

Time passed, things were no more difficult between them; no less painful. Something needed to change, to break, to end. As time went on, Mike found it harder to care which it would be. Dreams came and woke Mike, but now he needed to figure them out on his own. The grey circles under his eyes became a one sided joke. Mike called them his insomnia badges and Tom pressed a gentle finger under his eyes, and tried to brush them away.

Late one night, Mike woke up alone, heard the shower running and went after Tom. Stood in the doorway and watched Tom, water pouring over his head down his shoulders, down his back. Watched the muscles in his back flex as he jerked off alone in the shower. Mike wondered how many times it had happened.

He wanted so badly to go to him. Being careful and respecting the boundaries had gained him nothing; he deserved nothing, but he couldn’t settle for that any more. Mike eased the door open and stepped into the shower with Tom. Kissed his shoulder, kissed him somewhere near his mouth, and whispered into Tom’s ear, “Is it me you see now? Do you see me at night in your dreams, or in your fantasies?”

 

Mike pulled Tom’s shoulder to turn him, and sank to his knees. He looked up through the falling water. “What about here, Tom? Am I allowed here?” He slipped his hand over Tom’s and they pulled together, eyes locked.

"I’m so fucking sorry. I'm sorry, Tom. I love you." Variations on that every time he sucked in a breath, until Tom came and the hot water ran out, until Tom wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his feet. Took him back to bed and jerked him to a fast release.

Lying in bed, holding each other and still saying the words he wanted Tom to hear and believe, though Mike knows there will never be apologies enough. And finally, finally the truth of it all confessed to Tom. The truth that Mike had fucking known he was in trouble the second he first saw the kid, but he’d been too proud to say so. That he’d been sure he could handle it. That he’d been too insecure to risk an upset in the balance of their lives. That he was so fucking sorry. He could go on sucking on the guilt pipe forever, but stopped when Tom said, "I know. I do. I just needed you to say it."

Nothing will ever be the same, and that’s his burden.

Mike changed what they had built, but something new is being forged. And finally he understands what Tom knew from the beginning; their love was not destroyed or ruined by his actions. He finally got that though he could hurt him terribly, he could not make Tom stop loving him. And for the first time in forever, they both can rest safely in the strength of that love.


End file.
